“Then I’m glad your daddy hit her,” I said angrily. “I hate your mother.” I didn’t truly hate Miss Lucille, but I had said it, and it was too late to take it back. I dropped my books to the ground and stepped back, keeping my gaze on Mattie. I assumed the stance that Tarabelle always took when she boxed with Sam, and I brought my fists up, ready to jab. Mattie stared at me, then she grunted.“I ain’t fixin’ to fight you, Tangy. I hate her, too. Leastways, I hate her most of the time.” She resumed walking, glancing back at me several times, waiting for me to catch up. I snatched my books from
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